x x x Part Nine x x x
"You're going to have to talk about it sometime."
Hermione winced, turning her head from Ginny's altogether accurate assessment of the situation at hand. She looked back down at the note in her hand and shut her eyes. She knew what it said, those harsh lines scrawled into the parchment with black ink. Snape wanted to speak with her. Tonight after dinner, in his office.
They needed to talk about the wedding.
She shuddered, her entire body jumping as an arm was laid across her shoulders.
"Sorry," she whispered to Ginny, opening her eyes to give the girl a brief smile. "Just a little –"
"Stressed?"
"Yeah," Hermione nodded. "Stressed is a good word. There are others, though. Scared. Nervous. Depressed. –"
"'Mione –"
"No," the older witch shook her head, cutting off whatever soft words of comfort the other girl may have been about to offer. "There's really nothing you can say to make me feel better right now, Gin. I have to meet him tonight to plan what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. My wedding. I was going to wear white robes and have those pretty roses that change from white to light blue every couple minutes. It was going to be beautiful. Perfect. And now –"
She didn't have to say the words. Now that was all at an end. This wedding would be nothing she had dreamed of – from what she wore to the man at the end of the aisle. If there was an aisle at all. They didn't need an actual wedding-wedding, after all. Just a ceremony that her mom and dad could come to, if they wanted. And Harry, Ron and Ginny. Maybe some of the others from her house that hadn't completely turned their backs on her. But that was it. It wasn't a day to be happy about, to celebrate and remember for all of time.
Just something to hurry up and be done with, before they broke even that first rule of the contract. And after that –
Well, then she had other aspects of the contract to deal with.
That brought a lurch to her stomach and she bit back a gag. Why did her mind always come back to that part of things? It was her worst nightmare, come true. Being forced to consummate a marriage to someone that she couldn't stand to be around for more than a few minutes at a time. Someone that was only passably handsome.
Someone that she had no emotional attachment to at all other than a vague sense of respect for his intelligence, overlaid by a stronger feeling of disgust at the way he treated not only her, but her friends, too.
Someone other than her most hated potions Professor.
Why had her life gotten so complicated? Wasn't it bad enough, as far as fate went, to be friends with the Boy Who Lived? Wasn't that enough adventure and heartache for a lifetime?
Apparently not.
"So – are you going to go?"
Hermione found herself looking up from the table to Ginny's open, warm face. She sighed, nodding.
"I don't really have a choice, do I?"
x x x
He'd been dreading this moment since sending her the note that morning during breakfast. A wedding. Planning a wedding, for that matter. Nothing that he wanted to talk about. Or even think about, for that matter.
Severus shuddered, reaching for the mug on his desk. Coffee with just a touch of Firewhiskey. Something to set his nerves down a notch, before she arrived for this most dreaded of all meetings.
She'd want flowers, of course. And one of those elaborate sets of gowns that those little shops in Hogsmead sold. White and altogether a waste of galleons, of course.
He hissed, shutting his thoughts down then and there before they could take an even more negative slant than they already had. Of course she would want those things. What witch of her age wouldn't? A wedding was supposed to be a dream come true, or some rubbish to that effect. He'd never felt the desire to get married, still didn't. And those dreams hardly settled on wizards. The need to spend an outrageous sum of galleons for one day out of your life? Hardly something he wanted to be afflicted with.
But she would want it.
He looked up at the knock on his office door, eyes narrowing. She was early, something that he should have assumed. Not because she was that eager to be here with him, but because she wanted this over with as soon as was possible, as well.
"Come."
The door opened slowly, tentatively. His teeth ground together in irritation as she finally appeared, stepping inside and shutting the door just as slowly behind her.
"Sit."
She nodded, taking the seat across from his desk. What had happened to that brave little Gryffindor of only a few days ago? The one that had held her head high even though her world was crumbling around her? She looked just as timid as ever, sitting there in her school robes, hands clasped on her lap; as if she expected to be lectured over her class work or some other school related topic. He sighed, wishing that he'd forgone the coffee and opted for just pure Firewhiskey. To live out his life with a woman that looked as if she'd allowed herself to be defeated --
Well, he could always hope that the Dark Lord finally figured things out and had him killed, couldn't he?
"We need to discuss the ceremony."
She nodded stiffly, her eyes cast down to his desktop.
"Small. Your family. My father," he swallowed around the distaste in his mouth. "And. . .close friends."
She lifted her head to look at him, raising her eyebrows in apparent surprise. Had she not even expected him to make that much of a concession? To allow guests at the ceremony? He'd only have his father, of course; and some of the staff. He had no friends to speak of outside of Lucius Malfoy, and he couldn't possibly invite him after their little showdown at the Ministry.
"Thank you," she murmured, nodding. "That should be sufficient. Are we done?"
Just like that? No demands on the actual ceremony? No opinions on how it should be done?
"You have no input in this?"
He didn't mean for the words to come out as coldly as they did. She was just as much a victim in all of this as he was, after all. But they tumbled from his lips, turning to ice in the air between them, his darker emotions taking over. She was being far too reasonable, too quiet.
"What good would my 'input' do, sir?" she muttered darkly, meeting his eyes. He saw that familiar spark in their brown depths, and felt reassured that she wasn't completely broken. Spending the next seventy years with a cowed wife was hardly how he imagined living out his days. "I hardly had a say in this matter from the beginning. Why should it start now?"
Spark was good, he decide in an instant. But blatant hostility was something else entirely. And not something that he would term 'good'.
"Miss Granger –"
A harsh snort escaped her lips. Ah, yes. She wouldn't be 'Miss Granger' much longer, would she? She'd be taking on his name. A name that wasn't exactly on the best lists of wizarding society. Full of darkness and mystery, his family had always been social outcasts to some extent.
And now she would be, too.
"You're giving up?" he couldn't contain his derision. "Poor little Gryffindor. She put up a big act, but couldn't carry through to the end?"
He watched as she sucked in a deep breath, her eyes widening. "I haven't given up. I just didn't feel like fighting with you tonight. This is hard enough without wondering what I'm going to say to get you riled up."
A chilly silence descended on the small office. Him glaring at her, her trying her best to put up that brave front she'd adopted since the day their entire lives had been turned upside down, dreams and aspirations thrown out the proverbial window.
He knew the reason she said what she said, acted the way she acted. Wasn't it his fault, after all? Didn't he prefer it that way with all of his students – if not everyone that dared to try to enter his life. Being feared was easier than being cared for.
Not that he wanted her to. . .care. . .for him. The very thought alone was enough to make him shudder with revulsion. She was too pure, too filled with. . .goodness. Not a suitable match at all.
She was afraid of him. That was what it bubbled down to. The way she looked at him, tried her best to stand up to him. It was all out of fear.
Severus let a smirk dance across his features however briefly.
But fear was just one step away from being that cowed little wench that he didn't want, he reminded himself silently. His own mother had been like that, and it had torn him apart to see it. Secluded in her rooms all day and night, he'd rarely seen her. She had been afraid of his father, afraid of the world outside their home and the role the Snape family played in it. He sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk.
"We're through?"
She was up before he could say anything, her cool eyes staring down at him.
And then she left, leaving him to wonder just how in the hell they were going to survive this and retain what little sanity they both had left.